


You and I will meet again

by MirandaTam



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dwarf Culture & Customs, Elf Culture & Customs, Holidays, M/M, Post-War of the Ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 14:56:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirandaTam/pseuds/MirandaTam
Summary: It's cold and the stars are bright, twinkling down, silvery light on the green sea that Legolas sits in -- the boughs of trees, the sky above, even the gentle breeze reminds him of his fate.It calls to him, the sea.(A Secret Santa gift for Officialandimportant, on tumblr!)





	You and I will meet again

**Author's Note:**

> For [Officialandimportant](https://officialandimportant.tumblr.com/), for the Tolkien Secret Santa 2017 exchange!
> 
> Title from _Into the West_.
> 
> _Hope fades_  
>  Into the world of night  
> Through shadows falling  
> Out of memory and time  
> Don't say: "We have come now to the end"  
> White shores are calling  
> You and I will meet again 
> 
> _And you'll be here in my arms  
>  Just sleeping_
> 
> _And all will turn_  
>  To silver glass  
> A light on the water  
> Grey ships pass   
> Into the West 

It's cold and the stars are bright, twinkling down, silvery light on the green sea that Legolas sits in -- the boughs of trees, the sky above, even the gentle breeze reminds him of his fate.

It calls to him, the sea.

The branches beneath him sway, and he wonders how the deck of a ship would be different; he looks up at the stars and remembers stories of sailors navigating by them. He looks out at the green around him, the crowns of trees so high above the ground, green and waving to and fro--

Well, not all green. Autumn is upon them at last, and there's a slight nip in the air, the hint of future frost; here and there Legolas can see a splash of color even in the darkness, of green fading into yellow, orange, red.

Fire-colors, nothing like the sea, and they calm him, remind him that the seasons change, time marches on, and that even the inevitable may still be a long way off.

Of course, fire isn't the only thing those colors remind him of.

"If you're done perching up in the branches like some giant sparrow," his companion calls from below, "You may want to come down; dinner's nearly ready and if you're not quick I'll eat all of it and leave none for you."

Legolas smiles, takes one last deep breath of the cool air above the trees, and leaps down to the forest floor.

Gimli hasn't eaten all the food -- he wouldn't, despite his threats and despite his appetite. Despite the fact that Legolas has assured him that elves need less to survive than hobbits, less even than dwarves.

"Less to survive, maybe," Gimli had said. "But if you're ever going to put some meat on your bones you're going to have to eat more than birdseed and starlight."

What Gimli has prepared for them tonight is far from a feast -- far from even a hobbit snack, but then that's not saying much. It's a rich meal for the wilds of Rhovanion, a wild bird that Legolas had hunted and plucked, roasted with some wild onions that Gimli had found.

"And here I thought that you couldn't stand dealing with anything that never moved," Legolas teases Gimli. "Weren't you swearing they'd poisoned you, when you were served lettuce back in Rivendell?"

"Dwarves may prefer heartier fare, but there's nothing wrong with grown food, so long as it's  _properly_  prepared," Gimli says with a slight huff. "Some of us do know how to appreciate a reasonable amount of green things."

"Do you, now?" Legolas says innocently, and grins when Gimli growls at him.

"Daft elf," Gimli mutters, then shakes his head. "You should visit the Mountain, come midwinter this year; we'll have our Feast of Lights, and I'll show you what  _real_  Dwarven cooking tastes like. None of this wilderness campfire nonsense."

"Oh?" Legolas perches on a log, crossing his legs so he can balance his portion of the meal. "What sort of foods do they prepare for the Feast of Lights, then?"

Gimli sighs, and it occurs to Legolas with a slight pang how much he must miss his home; Legolas certainly misses his own, nearly as much as he misses the sea, which is nearly as much as he'll miss Gimli when they must part.

But Gimli's tone is wistful and not sad, and he speaks with a twinkle in his eye. "Potato griddle-cakes seasoned with onion, stacked as high as my head -- as high as your head! Fried sweet dough filled with all sorts of jellies and jam, dusted with powdered sugar, all the better to make a mess absolutely everywhere. Candied fruits glittering in all the colors of the rainbow... all lit by candlelight, almost brighter than the glittering caves beneath Rohan, as we wait out the long nights."

Legolas can hardly picture it in his mind's eye, though that may have more to do with the fact that he's never been beneath the mountain. "It sounds wonderful, my friend. But still, when compared to the Yestare festival..."

"All right, all right, go on," Gimli says, settling himself down by the fire. "Tell me what it's like."

Legolas grins. "All the trees will have lost their leaves by then, save for the ever-green pines; the maples will have been tapped for their sweet sap, then frozen on snow or sprinkled on anything it's a treat. Sugar-glazed venison, cranberry sauce... and the stories of the past all recited, so for the future to come we remember the past that has been."

Ah, the past that has been -- and yet now thinking of the future Legolas feels a pang of despair. To think of the glorious festival, snowy and sparkling beneath the stars... yet the images in his mind feel cold and empty without Gimli beside him, warm and fiery and alive. If he is without Gimli, what is the point of it all?

"It does sound wonderful." Gimli has a twinkle in his eye, the one that says he's had an idea. "How about this: another deal, like we did for Fangorn and the caves. I'll suffer through your trees and ceremony, so long as you get me some of that maple candy -- and you come see me in the mountain, where of course I'll bribe you sufficiently with all sorts of fried food."

Legolas can feel a smile coming to his face. "I suppose that sounds reasonable."

Perhaps the future will not be so dark, after all.


End file.
